It's the Good Stuff
by 1yellowfish
Summary: Everyone expects Steve to have PTSD, triggers, trama, after all he served in WW2 and just woke up after being frozen for decades. Honestly he appreciates that they care, that they try and help. But, and there is always a but, no one has asked Steve what hurts. OR The one where Tony is the best psychiatrist SHIELD (doesn't) have to offer.


Everyone expects Steve to have PTSD, triggers, trauma, after all he served in WW2 and just woke up after being frozen for decades. Honestly he appreciates that they care, that they try and help. But, and there is always a but, no one has asked Steve what hurts the most, no one thought that: "hey, maybe we should just ask the guy we're trying to help what he needs?" They acted dumb around him, and it was more annoying than helpful, though almost sweet if it weren't so obvious. They kept his quarters warm, too warm, no doubt when he'd been a scrawny thing he would have loved it but he runs so hot now he longs for winter.

They keep his pantry stocked, and yea, he'd known hunger for most of his life, when they were too poor for food, when he was at war, and now because it takes so much to keep the machine that is his body going and he is a terrible cook. He liked that there was food; he was baffled because there was nothing remotely like rations, he was not culinarily gifted, he could peel potatoes and boil water, but the stuff in his pantry meant next to nothing to him. He was grateful for all the varieties of canned soup though: easy, tasty, and no one had bothered him about his lack of meal varieties. Well Stark would if he ever found out but he'd try and keep that from happening, after all he'd managed to avoid moving into the tower so far. He tried not to think about the elder Stark too much and living in the same city as his son was hard enough.

The worst of it was how people moved gingerly around him; it was actually beginning to put him on edge. It was like he was 8 and had cracked his ribs coughing from pneumonia and his friend had pooled all of his money to get the doc to come out only for his mother to be asked if there were arrangements. Two weeks of hidden tears had him recovering out of spite so he could go yell at the doctor. His friend hadn't let him.

All of SHEILD also seemed to think no one from the 40s had ever had sex.

Seriously, it was hilarious. He'd walk in on a chaste kiss and people jumped like they were doing something wrong and great aunt Hildegard from the neighborhood who was no one's aunt and really not that great had burst in with a wooden spoon and a sermon.

Stark was never allowed to know of that woman ... in fact no one was allowed, ever.

He had been fascinated at first when he'd discovered a TV in his little apartment, but quickly realized it was heavily modified. A couple classic movies stations, a fascinating station that showed weather all around the world, and really not much else. It was clear the ubiquitous 'they' were yet again "protecting" him from the world, from the fact that the world had changed. He was a man out of time, not in denial of it; he lived through one of the greatest changes the world had ever seen surely if the world hadn't managed flying cars yet he could probably handle choosing a show to watch.

Needless to say a bored super soldier who's being pandered to is bound to get revenge. Steve might be Captain America, but he's no saint. He decided the best time for some retribution would be during his weekly lunch with "Fred from accounting" (and really? It's like they thought he would refuse to talk to a shrink ... they literally set him up with a 'lunch buddy' to make sure he went. He was pretty sure that was unethical, not to mention so very transparent.) So when he was ever so gently asked how he was settling in it took a few seconds for Steve to decide not to say he was considering having a break down so everyone would stop waiting for it just so he could go on with his life. Instead he decided to treat "Fred" to a lesson on cumulus cloud formations and climate change and how disappointed he was that the world seemed doomed to man's stupidity with or without bombs. He spoke for an hour straight, getting deeply passionate and the "accountant" sat there looking more and more frightened that the weather channel had radicalized Captain America.

In the end it was fucking Stark who witnessed and dealt with the PTSD Steve pretended wasn't there. During an Avengers meet and greet in the lobby of that damned tower, Steve stood there in full costume holding his shield snug against his body his grin tight at the edges. He felt like a puppet all over again. They were finally finished and it was just him and Stark left with a few stragglers as they made there way to the exit. He was tired.

The boy wasn't yet a man. His hair straggly, his eyes bright. Nice shirt pants too long. His smile almost scared. ... meeting his hero was no doubt frightening. He reached his arm out for a hand shake and suddenly it wasn't some child he'd never met at a stressful meet and greet to garner more goodwill for Fury's pet project.

Instead it was Bucky reaching and reaching, always reaching and never close enough. Bucky falling, Bucky trying to smile for him, Bucky knowing he was going to die, and Captain fucking America useless to save him.

Steve didn't know he'd shuddered, didn't know his eyes had gone blank while his face paled dramatically and he'd frozen with his hand half raised, but suddenly Stark was at his arm and saying something to the kid about saving the world and Pepper and Steve was moving.

He didn't even know if he was walking of being dragged as far as he was aware Tony could have picked him up and flown him to Staten Island because his mind was reeling and then it wasn't.

There was a glass in his hand. Amber liquid in generous amounts inside

"I can't get drunk." The sound of his voice startled him it seemed to pull him further away from that damned bridge.

"Yea it's a pity. Drink it any way. It's the good stuff."

He downed it. It really was good. Looking around he realized he was in Tony's workshop, or at least he assumed it based on the messy state of the work space. There was the robot Dummy. He'd heard that the claw thing had saved Tony. He figured the other robot must be You. He only remembered vaguely it because its name reminded him of "Who's on First."

"Want another?" Tony asked filling his own glass and avoiding eye contact.

Steve shook his head. "I should.." he gestured the door with his chin.

"It took me weeks to bathe after I was tortured in Afghanistan."

Oh. Apparently they were talking about this.

"Fucking ironic drowning me in the middle of a desert," Tony poured a third drink but just stared at it, it seemed that he should be moving it between his hands, fiddling observing it intently, but he didn't. Tony Stark didn't do still, so it was unnerving to say the least. He wasn't even looking at the drink, more looking past it.

"Flashbacks still come sometimes. For stupid shit. I drank my coffee too fast last week woke up under the work bench yelling at Dummy, thought he was, someone else. Jarvis will show you if you need that solidarity shit. I, well I've seen that look and you don't have to tell me jack but if you need to freak out, you can come here. Hell you've got your own floor. But you still get to drink, and call me an ass and be Steve because whatever you saw when you checked out just now, it doesn't change that you're you, that stand-up guy who's a bit of a dick. And I'm all feelings-ed out now because I don't share but you don't seem to have anyone who's not treating you like a dandylion in a tornado "

Steve figured he should talk back, but he didn't really have any words left. So he just nodded. And let it sink in.

"A whole floor?" he finally managed because the silence was awkward.

Tony lit up

Suddenly Steve was getting the whole tour. It was obscene how much space there was. He felt guilty that in his mind he'd already moved in the moment he saw the plush couch.

Then he'd agreed to something and Jarvis did ... well not magic, but it seemed like it and he was being very efficiently moved in with all 6 of his possessions by a very intimidated looking junior SHEILD agent.

Tony was giddy.


End file.
